Friday 13th
by Not2BForgotten
Summary: My tribute to Friday the 13th. It was a normal night after a long hard week of overtime at the lab. Greg is prepared for the armies of hell but Nick and Warrick aren't and Greg's luck might not last the night. Will they survive the long night of bad luck?


**A/N: Hey Everyone! I have posted a story in a while I know, but here is one for you!** **I don't know how long it will be but I don't intend for it to be another 40 chapter story. I started writing it on Friday the 13th, and it is a tribute to surviving that day! I almost survived it without bad luck, but not everything turned out right...especially for the boys! Hehe, I promise much whumping! **

Chapter 1

Warrick stretched with a groan and a yawn. What a week this had turned out to be. Nick had finally escaped having been called in for overtime a shift earlier than him. He certainly looked like a walking zombie when he left. Warrick was about fifteen feet from the door to Greg's DNA lab when the overwhelming smell of garlic blasted him like a heat wave.

"Oh geez….What is that lab rat up to now!" Warrick grumbled annoyed. He stopped in his tracks the moment he stepped into the lab. There were strings of garlic hanging from about every inch of the ceiling, wrapped around the legs of tables and chairs. There were rings of salt and jars marked holy water, a rosary around his neck, and every other superstitious wards against evil and bad luck.

"Good grief Greg, are you expecting the armies of hell to pay a visit?" he asked exasperated by the sight.

"Dude, don't you know what day it is! They just might! Here you'll need these." Greg explained draping a string of garlic and a rosary over Warrick's neck before he could stop him.

"Uh, no, I've no idea what day the armies of hell come to the lab…it's not Halloween already is it?" Warrick assumed…last he knew it was January.

"Warrick, I don't know how you survived this day so many times without these aids, but now I will teach you and you'll live a LOT longer dude." Greg chimed handing him some salt.

"Greg, what on earth are you talking about and what's with the salt?" Warrick cocked an eyebrow at him.

"It's Friday the 13th and the salt is to make a protective ring around yourself, honestly Warrick, don't you know anything!" Greg chided.

"Oh goodness, I'm getting out of here before you start trying your hand at mojo. Get these done for me would you." Greg laughed as Warrick fled the room grumbling something about all the evidence smelling of garlic now. It was quickly discovered that it wasn't just Greg, but _every_ lab rat in the building was wearing garlic, rosaries, and ready to create salt rings. Apparently all lab rats took Friday the 13th as serious as a real live assassin out to get them. He wasn't sure what was going to get him, the bad luck of this day, or the lab rats fearing this day.

Then he was paged to Grissom's office.

--oo0oo—

Warrick drove at break neck speeds now. Nick was hurt, maybe real bad, he would know until he got to the car accident. Grissom had said that the first responders had said the accident was bad, real bad. It seemed like an eternity had passed since he'd started driving and he was only half way there, with the aid of sirens. Cars swerved out of his way seeing he wasn't going to stop for them to move. Through the entire drive, the world blurring by, his mind playing the worst scenarios that could be.

What he saw when he arrived, was worse than his mind had ever imagined.

There was literally a mountain of metal and glass meshed together in the center of the road. Warrick could never have even guessed how many cars were actually in the mound. Several ambulances were parked around the perimeter of the crash attending to their bloodied patients. They varied in stages of consciousness as well and bloodied injuries. His initial scan didn't reveal the location of Nick, so he went to an officer to ask and was then lead to the lead officer on the scene. His heart dropped when he was lead back to the mountain of mangled cars.

"Um, I'm sorry but, you must have misunderstood, I'm looking for Nick Stokes. Which ambulance is he in? Is he already on route to a hospital?" Warrick asked nervously.

"I understood sir, Nick Stokes is in his car still." The officer replied, no hint of emotion in his voice. It was at this point that Warrick noticed something he hadn't before. He couldn't even _see_ Nick's SUV. Abruptly the officer stopped.

"Well, this is the way we figure we can get to him, problem is nobody's been small enough to fit through the hole of sorts." The officer pointed towards a small narrow space that looked like a tunnel. Warrick knelt down in hopes of being able to see something important.

"Got a flashlight?" he flipped on the light, the space where a window should have been along with the frame illuminated. Warrick leaned in and squinted to get a better look. He wasn't sure but he thought he might be able to see the back of Nick's neck, maybe some of his back, but he couldn't be sure.

Quickly he moved the flashlight to holding it in his mouth and began removing his belt and anything else that might snag on the wreckage or add some unwanted width to him. That space was narrow, perhaps too narrow. Warrick wasn't willing to waste time risking it. Dragged himself through the hole, wincing as broken glass and metal dug into his arms, but failed to slow him down. When he made it almost to the car the space opened up just enough for Warrick to sit, though severely hunched.

"Nick? Nick? Can you hear me?" Warrick called softly. No response. He shifted his position so he could see inside the window. His friend was slumped forward against the steering wheel, seemingly unconscious, head resting on its side facing him. His skin was pale as a ghost, a garish contrast to the bright blood streaming down the side of his face, the back of his neck, and the splashes of blood throughout the car. He could see a gash stretched across Nick's forehead and guessed there was a similar wound on the back of his head, but he couldn't see where the rest of the blood was from.

"Nick, c'mon man, wake up for me now." Warrick urged. He was hesitant to put his finger tips against the pulse point. What if there wasn't a pulse? What would he do then? Gulping a breath he pressed against the carotid artery. At first he didn't notice the throb, it was so weak and unsteady, but when he finally became aware, it was like a breath of fresh air. Nick was still alive. Quickly he crawled back out of the pile of cars and found the lead officer again.

"I need a radio so I can coordinate from under those cars and find a paramedic with an extra oxygen mask. He's still alive but he's gonna need all the help he can get to stay that way." He ordered briskly.

"Right away."

"I'm going back in to try and get inside the car. Maybe I can pull him out." He continued. Less than ten minutes later Warrick was crawling back to the little space, pushing an oxygen tank in front of him for Nick. As he slipped the mask on and turned the tank on to seep the fresh air he got no response from his friend and it scared Warrick. His pulse was just as weak as before but thankfully not weaker. Once he was sure Nick would be okay for a bit without him, he began looking for a way into the car.

Warrick had to crawl through the shattered windows of other cars and under bumpers or tires to maneuver through the wreckage. There was so little space, and the more he moved about the more he saw that Nick's car had been crushed. The only space that wasn't totally crushed was the driver's seat, and it was pretty close to what the rest had endured. The front end he could see was totally flattened and pushed back into the car. The sides were crumpled, not one window even slightly intact. Sweat beaded down his face and into his eyes from the warm night when Warrick finally got to where he could see Nick's situation from the front of the car.

His right arm was jammed between a section of the dash and the seat, bent at an odd angle, nothing of the wrist, hand or a few inches above his wrist was visible. His other arm lay draped across the dash and steering wheel with numerous scrapes and gashes down its length. The majority had stopped bleeding for now but some still seeped slowly. His eye was swollen and a severe black, a sharp contrast from is continuing to pale skin. Nick's legs disappeared completely in a mess of mangled metal about halfway down the thigh. A shard of metal was digging deep into his right thigh, the swelling swelling the bleeding so far, but if that metal was pulled out then he would be bleeding like a stuck pig.

Warrick squirmed closer and began to dig Nick out, ignoring as the metal bit into his hands, or the pain from thumping his head on various pieces of wreckage, they weren't serious, just painful. Once he got all the rubble that could be moved out of the way he took a harder look at Nick then called for a paramedic to get on the walkie. He explained the injuries that he could see as well as the pulse, cold skin, and shallow but so far steady breathing. The medic told him to come out and get some things.

"Try to get as many of the injuries bandaged as possible. Start with everything that's bleeding the heaviest. Get him conscious if you can and keep him conscious. His chances are better if he's alert and calm. Check his pupil response as soon as you get there and if he regains consciousness check again." The medic instructed commandingly.

"Alright, but what do I do if he doesn't wake up calm and I can't get him calm? Or if he's in extreme pain?" Warrick asked nervously. He would always remember the wounds he'd seen and know there quite a few more he couldn't see yet.

"I'm sending a mild pain reliever with you, but only use it if you have no other choice. It's dangerous giving him sedatives and strong pain relievers in his condition. You have to be prepared. With his injuries he _is_ going to wake up in extreme pain, but you have to talk him through it and distract him as long as you can, it's the best thing for him." The medic warned giving Warrick a stern look. He hurried back to Nick, remembering everything he'd been told, inserting the IV of sugar water to keep his blood pressure up, keep him hydrated and help ward off shock.

When he checked Nick's pupils he could have sworn he saw a grimace or wince but he really couldn't have been sure so he dismissed it as a trick of the mind. Work was slow bandaging all of the bleeding wounds, there were so many. He ended up completely wrapping his left arm with gauze, leaving only enough space for the IV. He was holding a pressure bandage to Nick's forehead having to slow the bleeding some before bandaging would do any good when he noticed the tire rim in the back seat, covered in blood that matched the general shape and size of the gash on Nick's head. He remembered being told that there had been a small explosion just after the crash, and a witness reported hearing someone scream and that it'd been cut short. Now he knew why.

Finished with bandaging as much of the injuries as Warrick could see, he began trying to move more of the wreckage away from his friend and expose more of the injuries.

--oo0oo—

Floating. It was the first sensation he became aware of, then it was the intense heaviness that weighted him down. His mind was foggy and blurred. If he ever formed a thought it was gone before he realized it was there.

Cold, too cold. It crept up on him like a stalker, causing him to shiver. He tried to stop the movement as a pain washed over him. At first it was just an ache, perhaps from being cold, he was too tired to really know, but then it grew and spread like fire into hot white, unbearable pain. There was something buzzing around him, loud and ringing in his ears like a bee through a bull horn. He tried to escape it but his body was so heavy, he couldn't seem to move. The something touched him and he jumped violently away.

Abruptly pain indescribable tore through him like fire and ice and the horns of a bull goring him all at once and there was nothing Nick could do to stop it as the scream was ripped from his throat.

--oo0oo—

Warrick was digging out more rubble, moving a good deal slower than he'd like when he heard the first groan. It was very faint and he almost missed it when there was another followed quickly by another. He rushed back over to the side of the car next to Nick, placing a hand on the side of his head gently calling to him softly, urging him towards consciousness. He could see his eyes darting about beneath their lids, another groan, slightly stronger than before. Nick flexed convulsively as if he were trying to move. Then he saw his right arm begin to move and fearing that he would do more damage to the already badly hurt arm, Warrick grabbed the elbow to stop the movement.

Nick jumped violently away abruptly, screaming, the expression of pain scorched into his face like none Warrick had ever seen. For a second or two he could do nothing but stare at his friend, screaming from the shock, or pain, or fear, probably too much of them all, before he came to his senses again. Warrick grabbed his shoulders attempting to slow the struggles but they did little so he leaned as far into the car as he could practically laying on Nick, careful not to hurt him, and pinned him against the steering wheel. He talked to him as he held him down trying to break through the haze of pain and screams, the thought of the pain med he'd been given flitting through his mind. How much should he put Nick through before using it? The pain he was in was clearly unbearable, but would the shot kill him off? Just as quickly as the screams had come they died away, the struggles stilled, the only sound were gut wrenching sobs and gasps for air. Warrick slipped off and stared at Nick's pained face, tears streaming down his bloodied cheeks.

"Nicky? Can you hear me? Please Nicky just let me know you can hear me." Warrick pleaded. For the first time since he'd regained consciousness his eyes fluttered open, hanging heavily at half mast, barely. His pupils were harshly uneven, one a mere pinpoint the other so dilated you could barely see a ring of chocolate brown around it. They hardly reacted to the change in light at all.

"Nicky?" Warrick tried again. His friend seemed to be searching for the voice, eyes lolling sluggishly about, unfocused and glazed, not once locking onto Warrick before hardly a minute after they'd opened, Nick's eyes rolled back into his head and shut, consciousness taken from him once more.

**A/N: Well, I promised you whumping! And I mean to deliver! Soooo...did you guys like it? You know how addicted to those little reviews you give me I am, I can't help it! So please, press the cute purple button on the left of the screen, make my day!**


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